


Finders (Keepers)

by Saucery



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Age Difference, Alpha Males, Alternate Universe - Canon, Backstory? What Backstory?, Badwrong, Bukkake, Consent Issues, Control Issues, Cross-Generation Relationship, D/s, Dark, Dirty Talk, Dominance, Exhibitionism, Explicit Sexual Content, Humiliation, M/M, Orgasm Control, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Porn, Possessive Behavior, Sexual Fantasy, Sexual Slavery, Slavery, Submission, Triggers, Underage Sex, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-04
Updated: 2012-12-04
Packaged: 2017-11-20 06:25:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/582272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saucery/pseuds/Saucery
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Peter had remained the Alpha? Consider this a pornographic outtake from that alternate universe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Finders (Keepers)

* * *

 

"Such a pretty little mouth," Peter mused, running his thumb along the edge of Stiles's spit-slick lower lip, where it cradled him. Held him. Oh, yes.

Stiles glowered up at him, but the effect was only made more disarming by how damp his eyes were, lashes wet and clumped together, the flush on his face a match for the scent of him, lust-thick, the musky tang of pre-ejaculate in the air.

"No, don't touch yourself," said Peter, smiling as Stiles's spare hand curled uselessly, helplessly on his bare thigh. "Not yet. That's for later, when I'm fucking you. You'll like that, won't you?"

Stiles  _growled_  - Peter shuddered - and then, Peter just had to curl his fingers in Stiles's hair, just had to hold him still and thrust into that crushed-velvet mouth, that silk-soft heat, drugging and inexorable as a fever-dream.

"So very, very sweet," Peter sighed, hearing his own breaths roughen, his pulse pounding in his ears as the images in his mind turned vicious - the things he'd do to this boy given the time, the things he'd train him to do, the ways he'd break him, bend him, melt him,  _mold_  him -

Stiles grunted when Peter shoved in too deep - and then gasped for air, choking on it, when Peter abruptly pulled out and came on his face. A hot spatter across his swollen lips, his cheekbone, his throat.

"Yuck," Stiles rasped, after a few moments, as Peter quelled the shivers in his own body. Stiles made as if to wipe himself, but Peter grabbed his wrist, stopped him. "What?" Stiles glared, peevish.

"Clean yourself." Peter swept a finger along the cooling semen and brought it Stiles's mouth, time and again, for Stiles to lick it clean - which Stiles did with a moue of disgust that was perfectly charming, if Peter was charmed by that sort of thing, which, luckily for Stiles, he was. The shy, unwilling laps of that tongue certainly helped, as coquettish as they were arousing.

"Are we done, now?" Stiles wasn't meeting his eyes. That wouldn't do.

"Are we?" Peter slid his foot forward, nudging Stiles's thighs further apart, where Stiles was kneeling on the floor. The fine leather of his boot brushed Stiles's erection, still desperately hard, and Stiles froze.

Peter rubbed against it, slightly, ever-so-slightly, until Stiles shuddered.

"Are we?" Peter pressed. "Your call, Stiles. If you want release, you must ask for it. If not, then this can wait for tonight, can't it? For when I do fuck you."

"I won't  _ask_  for it," Stiles spat, stubborn and indignant and stupidly betrayed.

"No? A pity." Peter took his boot away. Tapped it against the ground, instead, noting the moisture gleaming on it, the moisture Stiles's adorable teenage cock had leaked all over it. Because Peter was in an accommodating mood, he wouldn't ask Stiles to lick his boot clean, too. Not today.

Stiles was panting. Both his hands were fists, now, and the line of his jaw was beautifully tense.

"Well, go take a shower, then. And don't even try to masturbate; remember, I'll know it if you do, and you'll spend the rest of the evening with a cock-ring for your troubles."

"You're a bastard," Stiles said, finally, before getting awkwardly to his feet - oh, dear, his knees were bruised - and turning away.

Peter studied that lovely behind with a more than academic interest. Perhaps he wouldn't let Stiles touch himself tonight, either; perhaps he'd force him to come untouched, grinding down on Peter's cock, learning to satisfy himself with it and nothing else.

Yes.

Yes, that seemed like a good plan.

"I hate it when you get that look," Stiles muttered, glancing at him furtively before heading to the bathroom.

"What look?"

"You know the one," Stiles replied, and then vanished behind the door, although he didn't bother locking it, because locks didn't exactly work against a werewolf determined to get past them.

That, and it was downright impolite to withhold anything from one's master, and Peter was Stiles's master, for all intents and purposes. Not his Alpha - not yet - but his master. If Peter wanted to walk in there and watch Stiles shower, nude and glittering, sleek as a merboy and trembling as he tried not to touch himself, he could. If Peter wanted to drag Stiles back out here and fuck him against the wall, he could. If he wanted to call Derek up and make him  _watch_  -

Hm.

He  _would_.

 

* * *

**fin.**

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[podfic] Finders (Keepers)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/678137) by [reena_jenkins](https://archiveofourown.org/users/reena_jenkins/pseuds/reena_jenkins), [Saucery](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saucery/pseuds/Saucery)




End file.
